I love that sentiment that where you end up has a lot to do with chance, and so I sometimes like to add a random element to my travels. So when money was dwindling and I was in need of moving on I started a search for a job across all of Australia. I knew I would probably have to take work in a city where most of the web development jobs were, but in addition to the big state capitals that offer most opportunities there are a plenty of smaller cities and towns which support enough business that the occasional computer programmer is required. I had worked in Sydney before, and knew there was plenty of work there, but I was hoping for something new; something that would take me to a new place where I could experience a new flavour of Australiana, meet new people – start a new chapter of my life.

I had been looking for a couple of weeks and heard very little other than the sycophantic calls from agents who have found me the ‘perfect match’ only never to call back again. It probably didn’t help that for half that time I had been on an island with no phone signal, or at least that is what I told myself to explain the lack of interest I was receiving. But eventually I got the call I had been waiting for, and an interview had been set up. So with an array of cheat-sheets spread out in front of me, I had the telephone interview that was hopefully going to determine where I would be living for the next few months.

I heard back from the interview in a couple of days, and was offered the job working as a Web Developer on the support team of a digital agency called Sputnik. So I put aside any reservations I had about having to go back to coding Classic ASP and started planning my move to Melbourne!

A week later and I was living in The Lord’s Lodge, a hostel I had stayed in before and which was a great place to meet people. The advantage of living in a hostel is everyone is there to make friends, everyone is new to the city or even to Australia, and everyone is up for a good time!

I had a couple of days to settle in before my job, so I unpacked my stuff and hung up my clothes for the first time in a couple of months. I had my own room – apparently a ‘bungalow’, though I think ‘potting shed’ was more appropriate, for although there weren’t too many freshly sprouted seedlings and garden tools, the place had a distinct air of a cramped garden shed about it that even the fairy lights around the window couldn’t dispel. I went to meet my agent and find out a bit more about the job. Well, that is why I went to meet her but not necessarily the outcome of our conversation. It seemed the job was a bit of a mystery, but would be fun. And once that was conversation was quickly dealt with we got on to more serious matters. Music. She’s very plugged in to the local musos’ scene and her boyfriend works in a guitar shop, so off we went to meet him and an hour later, on my first day in Melbourne, I was on the bus heading back to the hostel with a shiny new guitar and amplifier. I was ready to start city life!

The job turned out to be just as fun as I had hoped, and although there was a fair amount of Classic ASP support the job was so varied, working for dozens of clients throughout the week, I got to play with lots of websites, applications, and technologies. A few oldies required a bit of attention as I tried to remember concepts like XSLT coding from eight years ago, but I was pleased to be able to play with some more recent languages and new one ones too. But aside from the work, the place had a great energy to it. An open plan office with lots of areas to relax in – a nice coffee machine in the kitchen, bean bags and cushions spread over an area known as ‘the grassy knoll’, a fridge full of beer, even a room periodically reserved for massages! And the people I now work with are a good bunch too; some real boffins! One guy is using Arduino chips to help the office tomato plant send text messages and post instructions on Twitter when it needs watering or more sunlight; another person worth knowing is the guy who orders in our weekly hoard of beer and then promptly delivers the first one to your desk at 5pm every day! I can see myself getting used to this place.

Although at times I miss the mountain air or the solitude of island life, living in a city again has its advantages. It had been a while, and although I had spent a fair amount of time in my previous year pottering in London, Melbourne has a very different feel. I don’t live or work right in the CBD, so maybe that contributes a bit to the more laid back vibe, but I think it is something typical of most of the city; less rushing, less traffic, more smiling. And typically my first few nights out were spent getting to know the people who work in a few decent bars and restaurants! I quickly found out where to get the best coffees, beers, and cocktails. Which place serves the tastiest souvlaki and which to go to for some decent pasta; and where the best conversation and music can be heard.

Melbourne is as much a bohemian city as it is a metropolitan one. Street art is huge here, with tours operating to show the visitors to the city some of the finest examples. Every street corner or alleyway proclaims some mural of interest so it hardly seems necessary to join a group! There are plenty of buskers keeping the spirit of live music and celebration of freedom alive, such as Brendan who plays home-made ‘Dag Pipes’ made from an empty goon bag and an air-bed pump! Living practically on Chapel Street also meant I was close to both the fancy and the affordable – expensive restaurants and wine bars at one end and great local pubs at the other. The shops too cover all grounds, whether I want to buy a posh new frock or wander around the ‘op-shops’ looking for second hand treasures.

After a little over a week in The Lord’s Lodge I had drank too much, slept too little, and met lots of people. It was time to find a place of my own now I felt more at home and settled in, and it was with a professional skater amongst others that I decided to stay. It seemed a logical middle ground between a hostel and a quiet place of my own; with lots of visitors, friendly laid back people, and a kitchen and bathroom only shared with three other people!

And that’s where I am now living, gradually accruing more unnecessary baubles to adorn the room with – it started with pillows, posters and plants but slowly more is being added to make my room feel more like a home; a box or two of wine, a pile of books and an ever-growing collection of unsolved Rubik’s puzzles!

I’ve found Melbourne a difficult place to photograph; it would appear I’m much more at home with photographing lizards and trees – but I’ve tried to grab a few snaps, so take a look!

It helped that the setting I had in mind was a tropical island in North Queensland. There’s something about remoteness that I think consolidates a community, brings people out of their shell and encourages friendships to become very strong very quickly. Maybe I’m just being overly-sentimental, but the friendships I made in six weeks living on Magnetic Island made such a huge difference to my time in Australia. The send-off party we had when we left was the most surprising event of all – with all sorts of people coming out to wish us bon voyage, and I was eager to get back and see them all.

I arrived at Townsville airport not long before Matt arrived back from his latest stint in the mines. When I moved out of my room on the Island Matt moved in, and I was looking forward to spending some time catching up whilst I stayed with him and Anthony, and Matt’s better half Jenna. I say ‘better half’ because I very quickly found out that Jenna was not only outside the airport waiting to take us to the Island in her ute, but she was also going to be stopping off at the bottle-shop to fill the back with lovely cold beers and as many boxes of wine as we could carry out of the shop!

The next few days were spent wandering between bars along the bay front; starting the days with bloody Mary’s and following them with jug after jug of margaritas in Noodies On The Beach, then after a plate of nachos maybe we’d head down to The Marlin Bar for a couple of jugs of beer and a steak, then back to Noodies. There’s not a lot of choice on that corner of the island, but when you have plenty of sun, good company and the bar owner insists on putting a sombrero on your head to commemorate your commitment to cocktails, you can’t really find fault with life. It’s just a great place to while away the days. There were lots of people I wanted to catch up with, and you could guarantee most of them would wander by at some point. So it was mainly outside these bars that I was able to catch up with old friends and make a few new ones as well.

After a week I went to stay with two other wonderful friends, Ally and Danielle, who came over from England a couple of years ago and have been living on the island ever since. Their house is in an amazing setting. Practically opening out into a currently completely parched lagoon, you can sit on the veranda on one side of the house and see lush rainforest trees and plants in any direction, see a dozen different coloured dragon flies around the pond, the sunbird nesting next to the porch door, hear the koalas grumbling in the trees, and the wallabies bounding across the neighbouring gardens.

A new addition to their family is Juno, a little Jack Russell / Papillon with as much character as he has energy and boldness! I learnt very quickly that if you throw him a ball or a bottle-top you will have a friend for life. And he was incessant! I don’t think there was a single occasion where he tired before my arm and my patience! And next door is Natalie who we partied with plenty of times when we lived together a year ago, and who now lives with, amongst others, Juno’s sister Phoebe. Lots of fun was to be had with the two dogs, especially when splashing them from Natalie’s pool and watching the pair of them try everything possible to get the balls out of the pool short of going in themselves. Strange creatures.

The island is full of other strange animals too, and I suppose I couldn’t leave them out of any discussion about the personalities that draw me to the island. There is my favourite spider on the island: the golden orb weaver. A huge and elegant looking arachnid with bright golden bands around its knees, not particularly venomous, but you would certainly notice its fangs sinking into your skin! There are also a couple of species of bat on the island, the large fruit bats which can be heard swooping over head or screeching in the trees where they roost, and a smaller bat which likes to hide in the eaves of old abandoned buildings such as an old gun entrenchments or powder store up on the hill. Also up there are the always fascinating koalas. It’s not uncommon to see them on the island as it houses the largest wild colony of the animals of an estimated 300. The ones that stand out from this visit where a pair I found sitting half way up a tree, and managed to get very close to. I climbed up the cliff face and sat on a rock so I was head height with the mother and four or five-month old Joey, and spent the best part of an hour just sitting and watching. The baby was fascinated by me, but the mother wasn’t so sure. She would steer him away with a firm hand on his shoulders until he was round the other side of the tree branch, but the cheeky little one would clamber and wriggle and sneak round until he could sit and watch me again. Eventually the mother gave up trying to stop him, and they both sat there nibbling on leaves whilst I watched and enjoyed their sedentary company.

I spent some time with other animals as well, which I hadn’t really considered when I was there before: the island’s horses. Danielle was working on a ranch, so one day I joined her and the other workers on a ride out across the island. I hadn’t been on a horse for many years, and think I was probably less than graceful as I struggled to make the beast move, or stop, or just try and hold on without getting too injured in the process. It was certainly a couple of days before I could sit down comfortably afterwards! I’m sure there must be a better design for a saddle, one which takes the male anatomy into consideration; or maybe I just need to learn how to sit in it properly.

It was a great way to see the island, going down a few tracks I hadn’t seen before and then arriving at the end of the long Horseshoe bay beach and pelting down it clinging on to my horse and desperately trying to steer him away from the trees with low branches he seemed intent on trying to brain me with. After the run, we cooled off in the sea, riding our swimming horses bare-back, listening to them snorting and playing in the surf and dodging the occasionally floating accident.

A couple of nights later we were all back down that end of the beach, sitting round a huge fire – drinking, dancing, fire spinning and celebrating. Day or night, the beach is a great place to relax and so it was with a modicum of inebriation I spent another great night on the island with my friends.

I hope you like the photos I took on this visit to Magnetic Island

Florence is such a stunning and grand place with palaces, museums, statues and beautiful buildings all around. I found the most impressive of these to be the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore which took over 140 years to construct during the 13^th, 14^th and 15^th centuries. The facade is uniquely decorated to a neo-gothic design of green, white and red marble which makes the building stand out from all other cathedrals I have been to, but the most prominent and distinguishing feature of this cathedral is the staggering huge dome. It is the largest brick dome ever built and as well as being immense and awe-inspiring on the outside, the fresco on the inside of the cupola is decorated with a 3,600 square meter (38,750 square feet) rendition of The Last Judgement with fantastic, provocative and terrifying images of The 24 Elders of Apoc, Choirs of Angels; Christ, Mary and Saints; Virtues, Gifts of the Holy Spirit and Beatitudes; and at the bottom of the cupola: Capital Sins and Hell. Standing in the Piazza del Duomo outside this great building it is still incredibly intimidating and dominating, but I can’t help wonder how it would have appeared to people that hadn’t grown up in a world where words like ‘skyscraper’ were in common use. Another highlight of my few days in Florence was seeing Michelangelo’s awesome David. It stands at the end of a hall of his unfinished sculptures and dominates the room. He is positioned in such a way that he seems to grow more than he should as you approach, and I easily spent twenty minutes in his presence!

We then went to spend a day and a night in Rome. There was obviously a lot that we wanted to fit into a relatively short period, so we had a packed itinerary. The first evening we checked into a great little hotel and the guy on the door was only too pleased to organise our site seeing for us. He had sent us on an evening excursion past the Piazza del Popolo, the Pantheon, the Trevi Fountain and a few other nice spots – stopping in between for drinks and food of course; and the following day we visited the Vatican City and the monuments and gardens around the Colosseum.

I had visited the Vatican City before, but I was still in awe of the size of St Peter’s Square as we waiting in line to enter the cathedral. Once inside and up the tower the view out over the square continued to emphasise the size and grandeur that the papal city inspires in all visiting devotees and tourists alike. Imagining giving a public address out over a sea of tiny people gathered in this encircling auditorium conjured up images of power and conquest that many zealots must have experienced time and again. The place was designed to create a feeling of majesty and wonder towards the chosen few that reside within, and that is exactly what it does. Indeed, it not only influences people, but even the weather systems which are marginally different in the Vatican City because of the anomalous bulk of St Peter’s Basilica, the elevation, the fountains and the size of the large paved square.

I was also keen to see the Sistine Chapel which I had missed on my previous trip, and so went to the Vatican Museum. I only wanted to pop in to the chapel, but in order to get to it I had to walk around the rest of the museum, being herded from one room to the next – down insanely long corridors, up and down flights of steps. In fact, you’re so disoriented by the end of the trek you’re actually pleased to get to the more open space of the souvenir shops! There are actually some really interesting things to see in the Vatican Museum though. Most of the rooms are decorated with massive frescoes or tapestries. One of the halls is lined with maps of European countries, states, and kingdoms as they were hundreds of years ago, with intricate patterned ceilings and gilded chandeliers and coving – but it all culminates in the Sistine Chapel; the one place that you aren’t allowed to photograph! And it really is stunning. The ceiling is majestic and as complex as you might expect, and The Last Judgement on the wall above the altar is truly magnificent. I don’t care whether Michelangelo liked it or not; I thought it was great! After the Sistine Chapel we headed to the Colosseum, and then out into the gardens and ruins opposite and wandered through the remains of the ancient houses of great Roman leaders, and the remaining pillars and mighty temples, arches and basilicas that made up parts of the old Roman Forum.

The next stop was further south in Naples. There were three reasons that this place was next on the list: it was somewhere I hadn’t been to, it was close to Pompeii, and if we wanted to make our flight out of Italy we needed to be at Naples’ airport!

I didn’t really know much about Naples, except that it was going to be a city with strong traditionally Italian roots, plenty of good food, and ties to the Mafia! I must confess that travelling on the graffiti-ridden subway, I couldn’t help imagine where all of the tough-looking, sour-faced, beefed up locals had acquired their scars, and was a little relieved when we arrived at our stop having not been mugged.

I had chosen a hostel close to one of the stations out of the centre of the city and close to the waterfront. After carrying our big bags around for several weeks, I was getting tired of it and thought the closest hostel would probably be the best choice at this stage in our trip. Unfortunately, although the hostel appeared very close on the map it didn’t account for the relative mountain that we had to climb before we got to the entrance! The hostel wasn’t exactly very pleasant either, especially after such a nice hotel in Rome or staying with our friends in Florence. We pulled the paper-thin mattresses off the bunk beds and tried to make something more closely resembling a real bed on the floor, and then showered and went out to find some decent Italian food.

As soon as we reached the first strip where food was being sold we were accosted by a variety of waiters and restaurateurs competing for our custom and also in some personal competition to see who could be the most bombastic and enthusiastic to see another hungry tourist. It was a struggle to fight past the first few, but eventually we had done a short circuit of the restaurants and decided where to get some dinner. It was a little family-run place with four generations of the family running around serving, cooking, hosting, or kicking a football about. The food was delicious and when we had finished we went exploring a little further. Being on the waterfront there were lots of cafes and cocktail bars by the sea, with tacky swing chairs and neon lights to lure in the would-be drunken passersby.

Naples seemed to be a place of variety and contradiction. There were beautiful little lanes filled with hanging baskets, families and neighbours socialising with one another, little trattorias, and stray dogs; and there was also the side of the city which was loud, dirty, and at times obnoxious. Fresh fish was being sold on the shores, straight from the small fishing trawlers, and the locals chattered and haggled over the prices of octopus, squids, lobsters and all manner of little fish. I loved the white-stone that was used on some of the buildings or around the ports, and a great almost glowing yellow/white castle built on a headland. Vesuvius could be seen in the distance, especially from the castle keep – and that was where we were heading next.

Pompeii is now split into two towns. The new town is quite large, but it is dwarfed in scale by the old now uncovered ruined city preserved from nearly 2000 years ago. It has slowly been excavated and uncovered since it’s rediscovery in 1748 and the amount of history and insight that can be absorbed just by setting foot in the streets is not something I know I will not be able to accurately convey with my completely inadequate words. What I will say though is that the place is like a giant museum; and not a hotchpotch collection of relocated relics like most galleries or museums are, but this was a look at how something was in its ancient environment on a scale that must surely be unmatched throughout the world. There are of course displayed collections of preserved pots, bowls, tools, cadavers, and everything you would expect to find in a once lively town, but the real pleasure was to simply walk through the houses, shops, and streets.

As you stroll from one of the town’s focal points to another, such as between temples, theatres, or villas, it is easy to get lost in the imagined bustle of an ancient roman city. The people wandering around beside you may be wearing modern clothes, carrying cameras and guide books, and talking in all manner of dialects – but it’s easy to forget that: You are in an ancient Italian city, with the bustle of dozens of people going about their daily business.

Even when you are in an unremarkable street you can stumble across real archaeological treasures in any hidden corner. Every single inhabitant of ancient Pompeii had a house with a garden, and even when these buildings were small you could imagine the feeling of status and worth that this gesture would give the populous. In the grander houses the gardens would have pools and pillared courtyards, and in the smaller ones there may be stone benches, patios, or maybe places where they would grow some vegetables and fruit. The walls in even the most humble house still often had glorious frescoes of landscapes, people, or fantastical scenes from a long-forgotten story. In the brothels the pictures on the walls and in the small stone chambers were just as detailed and artistic – though followed a theme very much of their own! Several of the streets were also adorned with crude graffiti, Roman slang, and political propaganda relating to the upcoming election that would have happened if the city hadn’t been buried under tonnes of ash.

There were lots of interesting buildings which gave an insight into the everyday life of the people that lived there; thermopoliums – pubs with marble-topped bars; bakeries with old stone mills, ovens and shelves for the recently baked goods; there are elegant villas, including one with controversial frescoes depicting a rite from the outlawed Special Cult of Dionysus; communal baths; an amphitheatre and forum. All with their own stories of mystery and history, and all overlooked by the monstrous hulk of Vesuvius.

I have pictures from Italy of course, so take a look!

We had arranged to meet up and stay with Iva for our first night in Zagreb, and after a few days in Prague to say goodbye to my family we were arriving in Croatia. It is a great feeling when you meet up with someone who you’ve only spent a few days with before but can tell they are as excited to see you as you are to see them. Iva took us to her home, and after a quick beer and a shower we were out and sightseeing with one of her friends. We saw the parks, and some of the lovely architecture. We went to a pub for lunch with some more friends, and then to a gallery with a very curious light exhibition, then on to do some more sightseeing. Some of the architecture and decorations were unlike any I had seen, like a kind of bric-a-brac roof tiling on the Church of St Mark, and a great carving on an inside wall of a church in an ancient European script, Glagolitic.

That night a group of us went up to a fort called Medvedgrad which was originally constructed in the 13^th Century and offers views over the city which were captivating even by night. We partied on until late in the night, and after a couple of hours sleep we were back on the road, and heading for Plitvice Lakes National Park.

We had a night staying in very small B&B in the area of the national park, and after a rather confusing and time consuming check-in process which involved several of the locals and a dog, we had our bags inside and were on our way to the lakes.

I have never seen so many waterfalls in my life as I did that day. We took an old shuttle bus to the top of the river system and then slowly meandered downhill following the rivers and waterfalls. The water was a beautiful blue from the calcium-rich limestone it had passed through, and clear enough to see many large carp and other fish swimming around most of the time. The leaves were turning to their autumnal tones of yellows and reds, and as they collected on the already brightly coloured blue or green lakes they added another dimension to the bright and bold scenery.

After seeing what must have been over 100 waterfalls, and not a single bear or boar, we made our way out of the national park and returned tired to our B&B with only a brief stop on the way back for a bottle of wine, something to eat, and a rest for our legs.

The next day was another early start though we still had to run to make our bus. We were heading to Zadar, on the Eastern side of Croatia and just across the water from Italy. The contrast with the other places we had visited in Croatia was striking. This seemed very much like a Mediterranean town rather than the Eastern European feel of Zagreb. The buildings were white-washed, the gardens were filled with citrus-fruit trees and olives, and the sun was hot. We enjoyed our first afternoon there, walking around the city, taking in the sights and sounds and of course the food – and planned our following day which was a trip out to the Kornati Islands.

The trip out to the islands was quite a long one, but luckily we had plenty of good company – and started the day with sljivovica and coffee. Before long we were swaying with the boat and the schnapps and enjoying the warm sunshine on the deck. There were a few very interesting people to talk to on the trip, including a travel writer and photographer for transitionsabroad.com, a website devoted to cultural immersion and living in obscure or remote locations. The scenery on the journey was stunning Mediterranean seas dotted with rugged-looking islands, most of which were completely unpopulated save for a few sea birds, lizards, and the occasional fisherman. We passed several other sail boats and yachts (including one with very excited topless dancing girls on the roof deck) but when we arrived at the island we were spending the afternoon on there were very few people there.

I immediately distanced myself from the crowd of other holiday makers and went walking around the big salt lake in the middle of the island, and soon felt like a lone explorer on this island paradise with just the company of the lizards, crickets, and wild donkeys. Halfway round the lake I encountered the far shore of the island which was strewn with thousands of stones and boulders piled in precarious cairns of tribute to the travellers that had passed throughout the years. It looked like a Petrified Forest stretching off into the distance. I added my own stone to one of the piles and continued round the lake. I hadn’t passed anyone else for some time and I couldn’t see anyone around so I decided it would be an appropriate time to strip off and give the water a try. Because of the high salt content I was more buoyant than usual, and bobbed around for a bit feeling refreshingly cool after the heat of the sun and the walk, before carrying on around the lake and arriving where I began an hour or so later.

The journey back was uneventful. I was tired after so many early mornings, my long walk, and too much wine and schnapps so after our dinner I dozed on the boat until we approached the port of Zadar again. The sunset here was amazing, silhouetting the boats, and reflecting light from the terracotta coloured buildings on to the water, and after we landed we made our way to a waterside bar to enjoy the last of the light on our last night in Croatia.

Have a look at my Croatian pictures!

It was with much sadness that I left the wonders, warmth and whimsy of Australia behind me and returned, prematurely I felt, back to the UK. I had made so many friends, seen so many fantastic things, and been to so many exotic places that the previous year had swept past me with the speed and force of a tornado, leaving me a little dazed and dizzy in much the same way.

The plan was to arrive at the beginning of October 2008, find a job as soon as possible, and be back Down Under three months later. I was determined to make that happen! I spent the first two weeks mainly locked away in the eaves of a barn with Internet-based recruitment portals as my only friends, and took the first role that was offered to me. The money was average, the project was vague, but I could work remotely, and that would give me plenty of time to catch up with my friends!

Rather than live in Leigh where I had been immediately before I departed, I was staying in the countryside of Burnham-on-Crouch, as my family home had been sold in my absence (parents are like toddlers when they get to a certain age – you should never leave them unsupervised!) And Joe, my mother’s partner, very kindly agreed to take me in. So in a back room of his converted barn I worked away on my employer’s website during the week, and returned to civilisation at the weekends to catch up with the friends I had missed whilst I had been abroad.

I managed to balance my life pretty well. I was saving money by not having to travel to work and by sponging off my mum, and so fairly quickly I had paid off my debts, paid for my next visa for Australia, and had money in the bank for the flight back.

Realising time was short, I was keen to resurrect Super Monster Destroyer – the greatest comedy metal band to ever wear Christmas lights and stuffed turkeys on stage – and we organised a Christmas Spectacular, rocking loud and long into the night, and even managed to have Santa Claus deliver presents to all the good (and bad) boys and girls that came to see us. This was certainly the highlight of my first few months back in the UK – to play again with some of the most amazing friends and musicians I have had the privilege to be amongst, and get royally wasted in the process.

After Christmas, for various annoying reasons, the return trip to Australia was not yet ready to happen. So I postponed for another three months, and decided a change of strategy. I had my money, I had worked hard and been far away from my friends, so now was the time to start celebrating being back in England throughout winter and spring.

I sensed that my mother and Joe wanted their space, and I would be omitting all the facts if I said that it wasn’t at the forefront of my mind too, so I moved in with some great and longstanding friends back in Leigh. The house was large and very comfortable, the entertainment was always on hand, and the pool was freezing cold. What a daft time to live in a place with a swimming pool! It really made me miss Oz and the warmth! So before long I was planning some trips away! If I was going to be stuck in the Northern hemisphere, I didn’t have to remain in England!

And so in February I visited my family in the Prague. In March I visited my friend in New Delhi, and we spent some time in Manali in the Himalayan foothills. And in so doing, being unable to return to Australia wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

Truth be told, I loved being back around all my friends. Most of whom I had known for so long that the time apart was like it had never happened. I was able to see friends’ bands, like Scratton Road and Dark Matter Transfer; Meet new additions to the various social circles I had left behind like the new role-players and photographers I met. We had some excellent reunions in familiar and homely locations like the Leigh Seafront and The Elms pub; and had I not so often been drinking a little bit too much, I would probably be able to categorically say (rather than assume) that I had some very deep and meaningful conversations!

Those three months passed quickly – and instead of getting straight in a plane and returning to the place I was still thinking of as ‘home’, another delay scuppered my plans. Spring was now here, and summer was approaching as fast as it could in England, and it seemed silly to delay another three months just to disappear as the Australian winter was in full swing and the British one just beginning – so I decided that I would wait out the summer. Before I left Australia everyone had told me that if I went back I would be gone for at least a year but I refused to believe them, and here I was making plans that would ensure I would be doing just that.

I was determined to make the most of my time in England though. I arranged to go to the mighty Roskilde Festival in Denmark to see some astounding bands, and meet with some very beautiful people; the new Dark Mills alternative festival in London, and I was also keen to have another Edinburgh festival before I ventured to the other side of the world.

In between these various trips I spent my time working for the same awful company, and tempering the irritation that came with that by role-playing with my friends, visiting shows and gigs, photographing anything and everything I saw, and trying to meet new people.

I ended up living in Burnham on Crouch again. For a while back at the barn – which in just the few months I had been away had transformed into something so drastically different it was practically palatial – with beautifully tended flower beds, large daisy-speckled lawns, newly planted trees and pot plants on a newly constructed patio, and decking around the swimming pool which was just crying out to be exploited on a long summer evening. When I had out-stayed my welcome again [or maybe a few weeks after that point] I moved into a cottage down the road where I could have my own space, leave my mess around the house, cook stinking foods in the kitchen, and not worry about disturbing anyone with the screeching noises coming from my guitars or computers.

Moving to this place was more of a blessing than I had expected. I was further away from the expensive temptations of the town, and so began slowly to save up some of the money I had spent on my too-frequent overseas trips and jaunts down the pub, and met several new people who really made my time there fantastic. The sort of people that made sure they were around to see me off before I finally left the UK, and brought more wine than sense to make sure that we had a fantastic night to remember (through the little windows the booze left us to look back through). I learnt to shoot traditional longbows, made by Joe, and even cooked my first bit of road-kill (if you want a recipe for worm-stuffed pigeon give me a call!) The evenings by the water were as stunning as those spent cycling through the corn fields, and to have that last glimpse of quintessential English life before I left was just what I needed to temper my normally all-too-jaded outlook.

So sincere thanks and love goes out to all who made that year more than bearable (and apologies for including such a corny ending to my first blog in a year.) Thanks to all of my family who I know made sacrifices to bring me much happiness. Thanks to Robbie, and Darryl for being so much fun to rock out with; Gaz, Vince, Mark, Matt, Stu, and Jim for being very entertaining role-players and great friends; Chris, Liesl, Jeni, Keeley, Tina, Joel, Leo, Pete, Dan, Hayley, Jeff, and many more for being wonderful people to talk to and to listen to me – in and out of good times, and in and out of the pub! Steve and Scratton Road, and the crew from DMT for making my ears cry with joy and scream in pain (respectively); Fatts and Amy for their generosity and humour when we were up in Edinburgh, and Juan for his amazing cooking and unparalleled cheerfulness; Ian for being a constant source of provocative thought, inspiration, technical and spiritual guidance, Mike and Dave for being wonderful friends I would love to have known for longer, and everyone else (I know there are many of you) who I have not mentioned here but who I will always love very dearly.